


Gordon Has A Skeleton For A Roommate

by bennybonny



Series: HLVRAI fics [2]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: M/M, a wee bit of angst, basically a slice of life post-canon thing, gordon has a skeleton roommate, thats it thats the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennybonny/pseuds/bennybonny
Summary: what it says on the tin
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: HLVRAI fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048831
Comments: 45
Kudos: 189





	Gordon Has A Skeleton For A Roommate

**Author's Note:**

> quick drabble, low effort, non-serious. enjoy!

After the war, Gordon Freeman sits at his kitchen table, and waits for his roommate to wake up. This is what he does every morning: he sits at the kitchen table, and he sips a cup of coffee, but not because he’s addicted to the caffeine. The coffee is a ritual. He has a beautiful coffee machine, and he’s practiced all the barista things. It’s good coffee, it’s worth it. And he hardly ever burns it nowadays. He has the art down to a - ha! - to a science.

It’s been six months since Black Mesa, and the world is turning. Civilisation lasts. Because there are people that need places to live, apartments exist. Because there are people that need to eat, there are people that grow food. The world turns. It’s been six months since Black Mesa, and life goes on.

There’s a knock at the door. Freeman perks up.

“Ah! Hello, Gordon!”

Freeman unconsciously slumps in his seat, as if he was expecting someone else. “Hey, Doctor Coomer. How are we doing today?”

“Oh! Another day another dollar.”

Coomer comes over some mornings. It’s to check up on Gordon, naturally, because Coomer is a kind soul. Something in his face is tense though, this morning, and Gordon immediately wonders what the issue is. Did he and Bubby have a fight again? It’s never anything serious, when it happens. It’s just that they’re both old farts and they get offended easily. It’s easy to forgive, though, at that age. They both have a lot of practice getting into arguments and forgiving each other, is the thing.

“What’s up, Coomer?” Gordon asks. “You seem tense.”

“Ah. It’s nothing, Gordon.” Coomer says, but he glances at Gordon in a way that gives lie to the statement. He’s obviously worried about something.

“No, really. What’s bothering you?”

Coomer again, seems unwilling to answer. He changes the subject. “I say, Gordon! It’s nearly noon! Is that roommate of yours still in bed?”

“He had a late night.”

“Early bird gets the worm, as they say.”

“Hey. He has trouble sleeping.”

Coomer sniffs. “Staying up playing video games doesn’t count.”

“He’ll be up any minute - I always wait for him to wake up. Every morning I sit here and I drink my coffee, and I wait for him.”

Coomer gives Gordon a very peculiar look indeed. It’s almost painful to look at. Gordon has no idea what it is, or what’s wrong. Is Coomer okay? He really seems worried about something.

“Hey, seriously. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, Gordon.” Coomer’s expression changes. “Ah! But now that you say so, Gordon. When are we going to rob a bank?”

“Oh yeah, we promised we’d do that, right?”

“Correct! Remember, we all agreed to it Gordon. We can’t keep putting it off!”

“No, no, we will.”

At this point, a skeleton walks out into the kitchen. He sits at the kitchen table, in the chair next to Gordon.

Gordon sighs and sips his coffee. “When did you go to bed? It’s about time you woke up. I’ve been waiting ages.”

The skeleton doesn’t answer. It just stares at Doctor Coomer with empty sockets. Coomer seems nervous. Coomer comes over sometimes to check up on Gordon, sometimes, because he’s a kind soul. But somehow, he never warms up to Gordon’s roommate. It’s the strangest thing. The skeleton will just be sitting there, staring with horrible empty sockets, completely silent and ominous. And for some reason, Coomer will get uncomfortable! It’s a complete mystery. The skeleton roommate steals Gordon’s coffee. He doesn’t drink it, he’s just doing it to fuck with him. Gordon lets it happen, like he does every morning.

“Gordon,” Cooper says. He looks worried. Nervous. Like he’s working himself up to something.

“Yeah, Coomer?”

“Bubby and I - we had a conversation. A disagreement, I suppose.”

Gordon expected something like this. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“It was about you, Gordon.”

Gordon falters. This is something else entirely than what he’d expected. “About me?”

Doctor Coomer takes a deep breath. “Yes, Gordon. Bubby had - a bit of a question, I suppose. Now, I don’t agree with him! But he asked me to ask you.”

“Oh. Why can’t he ask me himself?”

“He thought you’d react - well, it’s a sensitive question, Gordon, and Bubby isn’t a very sensitive person.”

“Fair. All right, shoot.”

“How long are you going to wait for him?”

“Who?”

And Coomer gives him that same, painful expression.

The skeleton roommate sits between them, and looks from one to the other. The skull cannot make any expression. It can’t speak. And yet it fills the room, nevertheless.

* * *

Gordon Freeman goes shopping with his skeleton roommate. The world is different, but there are still shops and customers. He walks down the three open aisles of the massive shop, and goes through the single open checkout. The rest of them are cordoned off and closed. There’s not much stock on the shelves. There’s not many people around. The world is a lot emptier now, after everything, but Freeman and his skeleton roommate buy their groceries.

“What do you think? Do we need milk?”

Freeman stops in front of the cold-food section. The skeleton roommate looks at him blankly and doesn’t say anything. It can’t say anything. No vocal cords, see? But a skeleton needs strong bones, so Freeman shrugs and puts the milk in the trolley.

“Okay. What else? We don’t need ham, it’s too expensive, but it’s nice to have on sandwiches…”

“Oh, Gordon!” Bubby stops in surprise. Clearly, he didn’t expect to see Gordon out and about today, and feels awkward about it. He hides it with his classic bitter aggression, though. “Nice to see you out of the house.”

“We needed groceries.”

Bubby’s gaze flicks disapprovingly to the skeleton. “Uh-huh. ‘We’. Did Coomer come by to visit?”

“Yeah, he mentioned you two had a disagreement.”

“Disagreement!” Bubby snorts. “He would say that. _He’s_ the one who’s worried about you, not me. Whatever he said, it was probably bullshit. Ignore it.”

Gordon leans on the shopping trolley. “Bleeding-heart Doctor Coomer. Why is he worried? Honestly, I didn’t get what he was talking about.”

“Fuck if I know.” Bubby realises he’s being a bit rude, and adds an insincere, “Sorry.”

Freeman turns to his skeleton roommate. “What was Coomer worried about, do you remember?”

The skeleton looks at him without saying anything. The jaw creaks open for a second, but it moves slowly, like an idle animation. Bubby is staring at it with a powerfully irritated expression, and when Bubby is irritated, it _shows._

“Well,” he bites out. “Good luck with your groceries, Freeman.”

“Thanks for saying hello, Bubby. Still on for dinner tonight?”

As Bubby walks past, Gordon Freeman hears him snort bitterly to himself, and mutter something that might have been a dismissive _‘We’._ Freeman has no idea what he’s so bitter about, honestly. It seems like he’s riled up about something. He looks at his skeleton roommate and shrugs as if to say ‘what’s his problem?’ The skeleton roommate doesn’t reply. It can’t. No vocal cords, remember?

They finish their grocery shopping. There’s no line at the checkout, because there’s hardly any people in the store. There’s a lot less people around, nowadays.

* * *

Gordon doesn’t actually get in touch with Tommy very often. It’s a once a fortnight thing, at best, a dinner somewhere cheap. Tommy buys for all of them, and sometimes his father shows up, but it’s always awkward when that happens, so G-man tends to keep his distance. Sometimes it’s Chuck-e-Cheese. Sometimes it’s McDonalds. There’s a really nice Thai place that’s just opened up, though, so tonight they’re going to try it out.

Freeman gets dressed up a bit nicer. It’s nice to have the excuse. No sandals, no sweatpants. A nice shirt and jeans. He checks himself over in the mirror.

“How do I look?”

The skeleton roommate doesn’t answer.

“Don’t worry. I know what you’d say. ‘Terrible’ - right?”

The skeleton roommate can’t answer.

Gordon Freeman shows up at the restaurant a little early. Tommy is already there, keeping their table. It looks like G-man hasn’t showed - this isn’t really a surprise, though, and honestly Freeman’s a bit relieved. It’s a bit weird to have dinner with the guy who used to be your boss, kinda. Makes it hard to crack jokes.

Tommy, though, is dressed nicely. Bright yellow shirt with a sunflower on it, and the word ‘summertime’ underneath. It’s a very cheerful shirt, but Tommy doesn’t look very cheerful. He’s staring at Freeman’s skeleton roommate as soon as they enter the restaurant, and doesn’t look away, even when Gordon sits down.

“Thanks for coming, Mister Freeman.” Tommy says. His gaze is still magnetised to the skeleton. There are bags under his eyes.

“Of course, Tommy. Bubby and Coomer late again?”

“I offered to - to pick them up, but they wouldn’t let me!”

Freeman laughs. “No? I bet you it’s their car, again. If I’m right, I’ll buy us both dinner.”

“No, Mister Freeman! I always pay, because, because my dad says, I have to.”

“No I’m serious. You wanna bet? Their car broke down, that’s why they’re late. I bet you.”

“No way, I’m not - accepting, that bet. You can’t make me.”

Tommy, Gordon notices, speaks in the same way his dad does. They both hesitate mid-sentence, imposing pauses in places they shouldn’t really go. The difference is that G-man always makes it sound suave and mysterious, and Tommy - well - Tommy just sounds hesitant about everything. Tommy is the only member of the science team who’s living alone, at the moment. He has Sunkist, of course, and his dad visits all the time. But more or less he’s in that apartment by himself, and he seems… faded, because of it. Older, maybe. A bit sadder. That’s it, he looks sad. There’s this aura of listlessness about him, and although he smiles and jokes just as much as he used to, he also seems… yeah. A bit sad.

“Play any good video games lately?” Tommy directs his question to the skeleton.

It doesn’t answer.

“I’ve been playing ‘Undertale’ lately. My favourite character is the little dog…”

The skeleton roommate doesn’t answer.

“That’s the developer.” Freeman tells him.

Tommy gives him a dirty look. Freeman puts his hands up, confused - what did he do to deserve that? Tommy’s usually so nice and laid back.

“We should play Undertale together sometime.” Tommy insists, turning back to the skeleton. “I can show you the true ending! And there’s, this funny skeleton, I think you’ll like him…”

The skeleton creaks its mouth open slowly, and closes it again. This is the best answer Tommy is ever going to get.

“Hello?”

The skeleton can’t reply.

“He doesn’t talk.” Freeman says.

“I know that.” Tommy snaps. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Sorry?”

“You treat him like he’s not even there! Bubby won’t acknowledge him at _all._ He’s guilty. It’s stupid!”

“Hey, bro.” Freeman puts out a hand. “Chill. Hey man, are you doing okay?”

“No! And neither are you. You’ve just been so - faded, lately. Older. Sadder. You don’t joke anymore, Mister Freeman!”

“Hey, since when is this about me?”

“Ever since-“ Tommy cuts himself off. Swallows hard. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Freeman puts his hands up in confused surrender. “Sure man, whatever you need. I’ll mind the table.”

Tommy goes. Freeman turns to his skeleton roommate with a furrowed brow. The skeleton looks back at him completely blankly. Tommy isn’t doing well, obviously. Maybe Gordon should have a chat with Coomer and Bubby about going to visit him a bit, maybe having a sit-down conversation with him? He’s obviously not handling it well. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to.

For the first time in a while, Gordon thinks back to Black Mesa. He’s happy to forget a lot of things that happened in that place, but the people he met - those he remembers. Where would he be, without the science team? It’s a fact: without his friends, he wouldn’t be here today. Even - the security guard. Even that guy was - you know. Not all bad. He was a fun guy to hate, that’s for sure.

After a bit, Tommy comes out of the bathroom, and Bubby and Coomer show up. They’re basically the only customers in the restaurant, so the meals come out quickly, and the Thai food is delicious. All of them agree to come back here, maybe make a habit of it, and no-one talks about anything too serious. It’s just a nice dinner conversation. Except Tommy can’t stop glancing at the skeleton roommate, and Bubby can’t bear to look at it _at all,_ and every now and again Coomer will fix Gordon with a very peculiar expression indeed. It’s a pained expression, if anything. A worried expression. But whenever Freeman catches him looking, Coomer just smiles sadly, and goes back to his dinner.

* * *

Gordon goes home feeling - dissatisfied, somehow. Like he’s missing something. Like there’s something going on without him, and it just doesn’t make sense. Whenever anything didn’t make sense back at Black Mesa, it was easy - he could go have a yell at the security guard, and he’d get so irritated that everything else would seem inconsequential. But the security guard isn’t here anymore, so Freeman just sits and stews.

He’s still wearing his nice shirt and his nice jeans, but now he feels silly being all dressed up. It’s too late for coffee. He goes over to where he keeps the tea-bags, beside the fancy coffee machine, and boils the kettle.

His skeleton roommate watches him from the kitchen table.

Freeman isn’t feeling very nice, tonight. “What are you looking at? What’s that expression mean?”

The skeleton doesn’t reply.

The skeleton can’t reply.

The kettle whines.

“Look, this is very funny, ha ha. Good job fucking with me. But six months is kind of a long time, bro. Even you can’t keep up a prank this long.”

The skeleton doesn’t reply.

The skeleton can’t reply.

The kettle bubbles.

“When are you going to come back? You always come back. Back then, no matter how many times I killed you, you always came back.”

The skeleton doesn’t reply.

The skeleton can’t reply.

The kettle boils.

Gordon Freeman snaps. “How am I meant to hate you if _you’re not here?”_

The skeleton stands up. It walks across the kitchen to where Gordon is standing, and stares at him. It is, without a doubt, a dead thing. There’s no life in that skull. No expression in that expression. No vitality, no spark, no consciousness at all in the way that it moves. The jaw creaks open and shut like an idle animation. This is the most anyone could ever get out of it.

And yet, Gordon knows what he would say, if he weren’t dead.

_‘Wow, chill out bro? Umm, you seem stressed.’_

The skeleton is a living, walking manifestation of the absence. His roommate should be - somebody else. Someone who isn’t here. The skeleton takes up that space instead, the walking void, the walking grief. He follows Gordon around to the shops, and to the restaurant. He haunts every conversation with his friends, he interferes when he shouldn’t. Tommy, who misses him the most, can’t look away. Bubby, who feels guilty, can’t look at him at all. And Coomer - who sees the grief Freeman isn’t dealing with - just worries. He worries about him.

Gordon Freeman has a skeleton for a roommate, and pretends that he doesn’t.

“When are you coming back, bro?” Gordon asks him. “How long are you gonna make me wait?”

The skeleton pats him on the cheek and leaves. It doesn’t go play video games, or stay up late. It just sits in - what should’ve been _his_ room - and waits until morning.

Gordon has a lump in his throat. He swallows it, and finishes making tea. Sits at the kitchen table for a while, sipping it. And then he goes into his room, and plays video games until he can’t think, until his brain knocks itself out.

* * *

Gordon Freeman wakes up refreshed. Wiped out. Wiped clean, or something. The pillow is wet.

He follows his usual routine. He gets out of bed, and since he’s not going anywhere, he puts on his comfy sweatpants. He goes into the kitchen. And he makes his fancy coffee.

There’s peace in the routine. Preheat the machine, run water through the portafilter, grind the beans. You know, maybe Tommy was right. Maybe Freeman is a bit - faded. Older. Sadder. Maybe. He grinds the beans into the portafilter, tamps down the dose. He doesn’t joke anymore - well, that’s true. That’s fine. He can go through life without jokes. The world turns, doesn’t it? He twists the portafilter into the machine head, and times the espresso shot to a count of twenty five, give or take. Pulls the cup out from underneath.

It’s been six months since Black Mesa, since Benrey-

Anyway. The world turns. A little emptier, maybe. But it turns.

Freeman doesn’t really bother with fancy steamed milk. He can’t get the hang of it, anyway. Instead he opens the fridge, and gets out the milk he bought at the store yesterday. Pours it in. And then, coffee made, he sits down at the kitchen table, facing the door.

He’s waiting for a knock. For someone to come home who isn’t coming home, ever again. An annoying bastard, sure. A pain in the ass. An irritating guy - but god, Freeman never felt more alive than when he hated him. And it was mutual! Mutual misery. Hate at first sight, to put it that way. Hate is a force of attraction, after all. After a while, his skeleton roommate will come out of his room, and sit at the kitchen table beside. He’ll take the fancy coffee that Gordon worked so hard on, and Gordon will let him. Will wish it was somebody else fucking with him, but this daily annoyance, this ritual irritation, it’s all he’s got.

That’s later. For now he sips his coffee, and he waits.

His coffee grows cold, waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> gordon <3< benrey for life


End file.
